It was in obedience to these instructions that the Mummy took a candle in her hand, and proceeded to the back-room, as soon as her son and his two companions had left the house. The horrible old woman was not afraid of the dead: her husband had been a resurrection man, and her only son followed the same business,--she was therefore too familiar with the sight of death in all its most fearful as well as its most interesting shapes to be alarmed at it. The revolting spectacle of a corpse putrid with decomposition produced no more impression upon her than the pale and beautiful remains of any lovely girl whom death had called early to the tomb, and whose form was snatched from its silent couch beneath the sod ere the finger of decay had begun its ravages. That hideous old woman considered corpses an article of commerce, and handled her wares as a trader does his merchandize. She cared no more for the sickly and fetid odour which they sent forth, than the tanner does for the smell of the tan-yard, or the scourer for the fumes of his bleaching-liquid. The Mummy entered the back-room, holding a candle in her hand. Markham started forward, and caught her by the wrist. She uttered a sort of growl of savage disappointment, but gave no sign of alarm. "Vile wretch!" exclaimed Richard; "God has at length sent me to discover and expose your crimes!" "Don't do me any harm--don't hurt me," said the old woman; "and I will do any thing you want of me." "Answer me," cried Markham: "that corpse in the other room----" "Murdered by my son," replied the hag. "And the clothes? where are the clothes? They may contain some papers which may throw a light upon the name and residence of your victim." "Follow me--I will show you." The old woman turned and walked slowly out of the room. Markham went after her; for he thought that if he could discover who the unfortunate person was that had met his death in that accursed dwelling, he might be enabled to relieve his family at least from the horrors of suspense, although he should be the bearer of fatal news indeed. The Mummy opened the door of a cupboard formed beneath the staircase, and holding forward the light, pointed to some clothes which hung upon a nail inside. "There--take them yourself if you want them," said the old woman; "I won't touch them." With these words she drew back, but still held the candle in such a way as to throw the light into the closet. Markham stepped forward to reach the clothes, and, in extending his hand to take them from the peg, he advanced one of his feet upon the floor of the closet. A trap-door instantly gave way beneath his foot: he lost his balance, and fell precipitately into a subterranean excavation. The trap-door, which moved with a spring, closed by itself above his head, and he heard the triumphant cackling laugh of the old hag, as she fastened it with a large iron bolt.